


Multiverse Theory

by Viscariafields



Series: Thedosian Mechanics [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Lingerie, Shameless Smut, horny idiots in love, in reality it's an alternate alternate universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-02-28 05:09:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18749647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viscariafields/pseuds/Viscariafields
Summary: A companion piece to Quantum Veil Theory. This is a collection of smut and prompts that do not quite fit into the timeline of QVT. I will be adding to it as I get more ideas and prompts!~~Chapter 1“Happy birthday, Professor Lavellan.”“It’s after hours, Solas. You can call me Lara.”He leaned in closer, just brushing against her ear. “How about ‘vhenan?’”She felt a rush of heat, an involuntary smile, a shaky breath. She didn’t trust herself to look at him as she said, “Don’t push your luck.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1: Solas and Lara birthday smut (explicit)  
> Chapter 2: Prompt-- thigh high stockings and garter belts  
> ~~~  
> “Happy birthday, Professor Lavellan.”  
> “It’s after hours, Solas. You can call me Lara.”  
> He leaned in closer, just brushing against her ear. “How about ‘vhenan?’”  
> She felt a rush of heat, an involuntary smile, a shaky breath. She didn’t trust herself to look at him as she said, “Don’t push your luck.” 
> 
> Chapter 1 asks the question, what would have happened if Solas had showed up on time for Lara's birthday party? So here we have an alternate universe to my alternate universe.

Lara was not having fun at her birthday party. And, if she was any judge of humans, neither was anybody else.

They were certainly attempting fun—drinking too much, dancing, laughing, shouting—but as far as she could tell nobody was actually _feeling_ it.

Not that Lara was trying. She had no intention of enjoying this mess. Thankfully her broken foot kept her from being forced to dance. She allowed herself to be cornered by Varric, who didn’t seem to notice she wasn’t drinking the wine they were ‘sharing.’ The gentlest of prodding sent long stories tumbling from his lips, and even if she couldn’t catch all the words over the music, she was content to listen to him ramble. Something about his Orzammar accent was pleasant to her ear.

Her goals were simple—stay until no one would notice if she left, which given how much alcohol was being consumed would be rather soon, then crawl her way up the stairs and lock her sister out to stake a permanent claim on the apartment. Then she could read a book perhaps. Listen to the thumping of the music below while feeling shielded and safe in her own bed. The most difficult part would be to make sure no one saw her crawling.

Of course, Solas showing up threw a wrench in that plan.

She thought that perhaps he wasn’t coming. If she’d had the choice and heard the noise from the outside of the bar, she probably would have turned around. Maybe. And after she told him that she didn’t want to talk about the distant past tonight, that she wanted to be just this version of herself without the weight of hundreds of years of experience, she worried he wouldn’t be interested. Lara the graduate student had nothing on the Inquisitor.

But there he was, looking awkward as he squeezed through the crush of people. Lara smiled, a big smile that encompassed her entire face even as she tried to look cool, unmoved. A reveler bumped into him, spilling his drink all over Solas’s shoes, and Lara laughed at his look of dismay. It was not possible that he could have heard her over the music, but he caught her eye, and he smiled right back at her. Despite the music and the shouting and Varric, she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears.

Solas slid into her booth, and she tried not to watch him, to pretend he wasn’t there. To act like this wasn’t the only thing she had hoped for with this party. His knee bumped hers under the table, and she realized how alert she suddenly felt, how much she wanted him to keep touching her.

 He leaned in close to avoid shouting over the music. “Happy birthday, Professor Lavellan.”

She smiled and stirred the straw in her drink for something to do with her hands. “It’s after hours, Solas. You can call me Lara.”

 He leaned in closer, just brushing against her ear. “How about ‘vhenan?’”

She felt a rush of heat, an involuntary smile, a shaky breath. She didn’t trust herself to look at him as she said, “Don’t push your luck.”

A noncommittal hum in response. She could feel his eyes on her, and it felt _good_. After all this time, perhaps she was ready to admit that she wanted this, that she wanted _him_ , more than she had ever wanted anything else. Maybe her birthday, the start of a new year, was the perfect moment to let herself be swept away by this intelligent and beautiful and intense man. Or at least to stop thinking of every way everything around her could go horribly wrong. Certainly his proximity was making thinking about anything a little more difficult.

But suddenly he was leaving the booth. She felt a moment of dread, regret. Was she too cold?

He held out a hand toward her. “Dance with me.”

She gave him a questioning look. He knew she couldn’t walk on her broken foot. He kept his hand extended, and finally she took it, allowing hm to pull her out and up onto the floor. She hopped on one foot, losing her balance before he caught her easily.

She shook her head, shouting over the music, “You know I can’t dance like this.”

“It’s hardly dancing, though, is it?”

He was right. Normally Lara felt dismissive of the kind of dancing that happened as the consumption of alcohol increased. She considered it less dancing and more like rhythmic groping while being deafened by mediocre music. But looking at Solas, that didn’t seem so bad. She settled her arms over his shoulders, and his hands held her waist. If one knee bumping hers made her crave more contact with him, surely having his arms wrapped around her while they swayed to the music should be enough. But Lara discovered an inner avarice, a new voice that simply said _more_. She shifted, found ways to press more of her body to his. He had a lazy smile on his face, and she found she wanted that, too. She wanted to take the smile, to take his lips, to see what else they could do, what other expressions they could make.

He kissed her, gently pressing his lips to hers. But nothing ever stayed so gentle between them. All the energy she had spent at war with herself was suddenly applied to a singular focus. His lips parted for her, allowing her tongue to explore his mouth. His grip on her tightened, and she could feel in the tautness of his body and the tension there, the barely controlled need. They were neither one of them in full control of themselves. With a heroic effort, she broke away from his lips and whispered in his ear, “Not here.”

“Where?”

She heard the thickness in his voice, further clouding her already foggy brain. “Upstairs.”

He nodded, but for a moment neither of them moved. His nose brushed against hers, and his lips were _right there_. She closed her eyes, willing herself to pull away, but he was kissing her again and she was lost.

His lips trailed down to her neck, and she let her head fall back. This was bad. They needed to leave. But his lips were sparking a fire in her she couldn’t hope to control.  “Upstairs,” she said again, hoping she sounded like she meant it. It worked. He paused his onslaught, resting his forehead on her shoulder. “Upstairs,” he repeated.

He pulled away so quickly she almost lost her balance. Or maybe it was just the loss of him when all she wanted to do was feel more of him, as much of him as she could. And then he was at her elbow, holding out her scooter. She took it and started pushing through the crowd toward the back entrance. He kept his hand on her lower back, and she thought if he let go, if he stopped touching her, she might die.

The crowd thinned, they reached the door and Solas held it open so she could enter the dimly lit hallway. The door hadn’t even shut behind them before she was on him. She had his shirt untucked, he had his lips on her ear, her teeth were on his collarbone, his hands on her ass. Her back was against the wall. He rolled his hips, and a small moan escaped her. She hiked up her leg around his waist, and his hips rolled again. A rhythm of friction grew between them, her back arched, his hand traveling up her torso. She wanted him to touch her. She _needed_ him to touch her. She practically pressed her breast into his hand. He rubbed his thumb over her hardened nipple and still he pressed himself between her legs. If he didn’t stop, she would have him here, in a dirty hallway.

“Solas,” she moaned, “We have to go upstairs.” Her words came out in stutters and gasps. “Anyone could see us.”

She could feel the effort it took him to pull away. She brought a hand to his flushed face, thumbing over his cheek. He closed his eyes at the touch and shook his head.

His eyes opened, and in a quick, decisive movement, he hoisted her up, hiking her other leg around his waist and grabbing her ass. She threw her arms around his neck to hold on. “Upstairs then.”

She felt ridiculous being carried like this, and busied herself staring at his neck. It was a good neck, she decided, long, and pale, and for some reason it smelled like home. She kissed it, delighting in the way he tensed up under her, how his grasp on her became firmer. She tested out different spots, seeing how he responded just here, under his jaw, or here, where she could feel his pulse.

“Vhenan,” he gasped, “Carrying you like this is hard enough…”

“I can tell.” She rolled her hips, and he paused on the step and groaned.

“Lara,” he moaned.

“Hurry up,” she whispered in his ear, “We’re so close.”

He took a breath, and with her licking and biting his ear lobe, he made it up the last few stairs, breathing hard. Lara’s back hit the door. She fumbled in her pocket for her keys, holding them between them victoriously like a prize. Solas snatched them out her hands and jammed one in the door. He turned it with force, and they stumbled into the room. Lara regained her footing as Solas slammed the door behind them and locked it. Before he could even turn around, she had his shirt off of him, tossing it away. She pressed herself against his bare back, breathing him in. Her hands grasped at his chest, then reached lower, past his belt buckle and to the hard bulge in his trousers. He dropped his forehead against the door as she rubbed him through the fabric. It was exquisite to feel how his muscles tensed under her as she undid his belt and took him in her hand. She started slow, but as his breathing became labored, her hand acted of its own accord, increasing in speed. The small moans she was eliciting from him were gorgeous, intoxicating, and she knew she needed to hear more.

With a hiss he grabbed her wrist and turned around to face her. He was plaintive, flushed, his voice hoarse as he said, “You will have me undone before we even start.”

She hungrily looked at his bare chest, the soft hair that led to his erection, and finally at his face, his parted lips and intense eyes begging her, waiting for her.

“Take me to bed, then.”

They left a trail of clothing behind them, Lara’s bra coming off just as he dropped her on the bed. She tossed it to the side and Solas buried his face in her chest, kissing his way to her hardened nipple. At the press of his tongue, she threw her head back. He stayed there for what felt like only a moment before trailing kissed down her belly until her leggings obstructed his path. He hooked the waistband with his fingers to pull them down and away, but there was an uncrossable barrier—her walking cast. She leaned forward to undo all the Velcro, the noise cutting through the haze in her brain and informing her that this might be the least sexy action she had ever taken, but Solas knelt before her. When she finished loosening the straps, he gently eased the boot off her foot and pressed a kiss to her knee as he relieved her of her leggings. Then, almost reverentially, he replaced the boot on her foot. It was tender and sweet and she placed her hand on his jaw, guiding his lips to hers so she could take his sweet and tender mouth and claim it as her own.

She leaned back on the bed, Solas hovering over her, taking in the sight of her. He pushed a knee between her legs, and she gladly parted for him. He held a hand to her cheek, smoothing her hair away.

“You are so beautiful.”

His lips met hers as his hand slid down her belly. She leaned into his touch, needing it, craving it, gasping as his fingers parted her folds. He plunged a finger into her, and she arched her back, angling her hips to help him get deeper. His finger curled inside of her, and a sound escaped her that was almost desperate.

“You are so beautiful,” he repeated as he added a second finger, rhythmically pushing them inside of her at a tortuous pace. She instinctively ground her hips against his hand. She reached for him, kissing him urgently. His free hand caressed her breast, and the stimulation was excruciating—overwhelming and yet not nearly enough. “I need you,” she moaned into his mouth, “I need you now.”

He shifted above her, readjusting her leg with a kiss, and he slid into her. She gasped at the feeling of him inside of her, not realizing she had closed her eyes until he brought his hand to her face. She smiled. He began thrusting with a controlled, measured pace, and her smile was lost among the deep moans and pleasure shooting through her. She called his name, not even certain what she was begging for, and the slow, deep thrusts quickly gave way to something more urgent. Lara was already wound so tight, the tension inside of her so close to breaking. His hips were bucking, he was _pounding_ her, and she couldn’t last against the torrent of him.

“Solas, I… I...”

She came with a strangled cry, her whole body awash with pleasure that pulsed through her as she clenched around him. His climax followed hers, prolonging the waves and sparks that rushed through her. He collapsed into her, and she wrapped herself tightly around him, holding him there.

When she felt she could bear it, she loosened her hold on him. He slowly eased himself out of her and rolled to the side.

Staring at the ceiling, she could almost pretend like none of that had just happened. She kept a hand on his chest, as if to remind herself that this was real, he was still here. Her mind felt completely blank, thoughts slipping one way or the other. It was the quietest her mind had been since moving to Val Royeaux. Two words materialized in her mind: ‘fucked senseless.’

She burst out laughing.

Solas rolled over and nuzzled her ear. “Care to share your thoughts?”  

Lara was surprised to feel her body responding to just the light vibration of his voice on her ear. She would have thought herself spent for the next year, but the feeling of his breath tickling her delicate skin had her whole body at attention.

“Were you planning this when you came to my party tonight?”

He chuckled. Hot air on her neck, and she shivered. “No. Well… no. I had thought to rescue you. Convince you to go somewhere quieter.”

He planted a kiss on the side of her ear. Surely he wasn’t ready for another round. “And if I refused?”

“Then I would have happily let you enjoy your party.”

She turned to face him now, and he planted a kiss on her chin. “And if I’d gone with you?”

“I would have offered up my home as a refuge of peaceful quiet.”

He trailed one finger down her side. She shivered into him, pressing her nose to his neck. There was nothing peaceful or quiet about what they’d done together. What he was still doing to her. “Just that?”

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. His hand continued to wander, tracing designs onto her skin. “If things had gone well, I might have offered to let you use my bath. Alone, of course. If things had gone _very_ well…”

He shifted beside her, his fingers traveling down her chest and around her belly button. He went further, just avoiding the pulsing heat between her legs, instead tracing a pattern into the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

“I would have done this.”

He kissed her just below her navel, and she inhaled sharply. He kept kissing her, moving down, down, following the path of his fingers, his lips igniting flashes of pleasure along the figures he had traced. She tried not to squirm, to hold still for him, even as his teeth met her soft flesh. She clutched at the sheets under her hands and stuttered out his name.

“Yes, vhenan,” he hummed into her skin.

“Please.”

He licked up the inside of her thigh. “Gladly.”

His tongue pressed between her folds, coming to rest lightly on her clit. He traced light circles, so light, teasing her. Her legs flexed, she tried to move to get more pressure, more stimulation, but he didn’t let her.

Every muscle in her was tense and taut and begging for release. She practically whimpered his name, trying and failing not to plead for it. Finally he relented, grabbing her ass and tugging her closer for a better angle. His tongue was firm now, and shocks swept through her body with each lick. She thrust her hips against the pressure, and he took his cue, pressing harder, pausing to suck. His tongue was greedy, it was methodical, it was skilled. When his finger entered her, Lara cried out, grinding against him as he furiously licked her.

“Solas,” she moaned, “I’m going to… I’m going to…”

A second finger joined the first and they curled inside of her. With fists clenched around blankets and a guttural cry, she came, jolts of pleasure shooting through her as her legs shook on Solas’s shoulders. He waited for the quakes to stop before pulling away, gently placing her legs back on the bed and stretching himself beside her once again.

She looked at him in the dark, at his smug, satisfied smile, and she wondered if she had always found him so beautiful. If she had always felt that his nose was perfect, that blue was the best color for eyes to be, that those lips that he used with such skill, whether speaking or in pursuit of pleasure, were in fact the pinnacle of lips, having no equal on this planet.

She couldn’t remember what he looked like to her the first time she saw him. She didn’t remember staring at him, or texting her sister that she had just met the most beautiful man in Thedas, or even really registering him at all. There was a moment, a brief moment in her life when he was just a person whose face she recognized but didn’t _know_. It felt impossible. It felt ridiculous.

He brushed the hair out of her face. “What troubles you, vhenan?”

“If I never saw another face but yours for the rest of my life, I would be happy.”

He laughed and pulled her onto his chest. “I would never damn you to such a fate.”

She closed her eyes and wondered why she had resisted this for so long. _How_ she had. A needless self-denial brought on by fear and confusion. But, she thought as her breath slowed to match his while he ran his fingers through her hair, what was there to be afraid of?

“I’m really glad you came to my party tonight,” she murmured.  

His chest rose and fell under her with his quiet laughter. “Of course. I would not have missed it.”

She hummed out a slow breath. “Think we missed _most_ of it. Think we’re missing it right now.”

“Would you like to return to it?”

“No,” she sighed, “I want to stay right here.”

And even with the noise of the bass of the party thumping through the floorboards, and the occasional cheer after a crash of things breaking as the revelry continued, Lara drifted off to sleep.


	2. Thigh high stockings and garter belts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt from Wards-Are-Functioning over on my tumblr. https://freemarches-so-dalishious.tumblr.com/post/186114298983/64-sensory-prompts. You can find more prompts there!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn’t make this work with the timing of QVT, so we’re going to pin this under multiverse theory, in a world in which Fenris and Hawke skip the honeymoon, or maybe in which Lara manages to keep control over her apartment.

_Hi Fenris! I received a package without a name on it, so I opened it. But… I don’t think it’s for me. Do you want to come get it?_

That seemed normal enough, right? Lara’s thumb hovered over the send button. Should she have offered to deliver it to him? No, that would only make this so much worse. There wasn’t much she could do. The package was open, she couldn’t hide that she saw what was in it, so better just to pull the bandaid off and be done with it.

Maybe she should just leave it outside her door.

_I am nearby right now. I will come take a look._

She couldn’t lock the door on the man who gave her a free apartment.  So he liked wearing lingerie. Maybe he wasn’t shy about it. Lara could be mature about this. She waited, trying to find a natural position to sit in.

Fenris opened the door, swore to himself, shut it, then knocked. He hadn’t been up since she moved in, and obviously wasn’t used to knocking on his own door. He blinked twice at her choice of wall decorations—plastic sheets covered in equations—and asked for the package.

 “It’s over on the counter,” she said, waving toward his old kitchenette. “I’ll just um, I’ll just… yeah.”

She tried to pretend she wasn’t watching him examine the shipping label. His brows furrowed, and he pulled out the offending products.

“I did not order these.”

Two garter belts hung from his fingers, soft lace dangling in the air. The matching stockings were still in their plastic wrap.

“Well _I_ didn’t.” She was met with his calm, skeptical face, and felt a whole-body blush seeping through her skin. “And if I had, I definitely wouldn’t invite you over to come… _look_ through them.”

He placed the garments back into the package and pulled out the receipt. “Perhaps someone purchased them for you. A gift.”

Her face burned even harder. She couldn’t even begin to consider that Solas would do this. They weren’t even… they’d barely even _started…_ She crossed her arms over her chest.

“And maybe Hawke purchased them for _you_.”

“Hawke wouldn’t—”

He paused. Lara narrowed her eyes at him, daring him to finish that sentence. Hawke wouldn’t forget his address? Hawke wouldn’t forget to leave a note? Hawke wouldn’t buy him lingerie? They both knew she would.

Fenris rubbed a hand over his face. “What size are they?”

Both of them now held a garter each, looking at the labels. “It’s just numbers,” Lara said, “Doesn’t mean anything to me.”

It was the same with the stockings. As Lara tried not to admire the seam on the back, she had to admit that the buyer had good taste. _Please_ , _please don’t be Solas._

Fenris pulled out his phone and started texting Hawke. There was no amount of money in the world that could tempt her to ask Solas if he had bought her underwear. Well, actually there were many sums she would accept because money was useful, men were plentiful and dignity was fleeting, but it was unlikely Fenris had any money to speak of.

She held a stocking up toward him to gauge the length. He had at least five inches on her, and while she had never worn this style before, it looked too long. Upon catching his glare, she brought her hand back down. “Maybe you should… try it on. See if it fits.”

“Me?” Fenris looked pointedly at the stockings in her hand and back at Lara.

They stared at each other for what felt like hours, waiting for the other to back down. “We’ll both try them on,” Lara finally huffed.

“What?”

“One pair each. That way we both can feel like idiots.”

“So just another day then.”

“Exactly.”

Fenris took the bathroom and Lara went to her bedroom. She was absolutely not about to try to figure out how a garter worked, so she put on the shortest shorts she owned and got to work rolling up the stockings. As she suspected, they were way too long.

“Fenris,” she called, walking into the hallway, “These aren’t—Oh.”

Hawke was standing in her living room. She gave Lara a once over, biting her lip and stroking her chin. “That… is not quite how I imagined them looking. Tell me, do your shorts happen to say ‘physics’ on the ass, or some other delightful expression?”

A clatter from the bathroom saved Lara from having to respond. Hawke threw open the door, and Fenris tumbled out. Hawke caught him before he slipped across the floor. Lara knew she shouldn’t look, but _fuck_ did Fenris look good, even if he had chosen to put the garter on over his briefs and then promptly fallen on his ass before he could attach the stockings.

“How does anyone walk in these?” he grumbled.

“They don’t, mostly. Are you done giving Lara a show? I don’t want her getting any ideas.” Hawke glanced at Lara, who was unabashedly enjoying the view. “Well, any _more_ ideas. I have a hard time believing _you_ were the one to suggest putting on my lingerie for what I can only imagine was some sort of practical joke?”

“That is exactly what happened,” Lara said, pink from head to toe and still staring at Fenris’s thighs. “And we succeeded at the joke and it’s over now so I’m going to take these off.”

From inside her room and beyond the pounding of her heart within her ears, Lara heard Hawke say, “Happy honeymoon, husband. I didn’t really intend for these to be a ‘his and hers’ matching set but I can’t say I hate it.”

Fenris’s response was muffled, and then Hawke was laughing. Lara folded up the stockings neatly, added the garter belt to the pile, gathered all the courage and poise she had left, and entered the living room.  

“Enjoy your honeymoon,” she said, unable to meet Hawke’s eyes.

She turned on her heel to flee, when Hawke exclaimed, “Meteor! Of course that’s what they say. Because your ass is out of this world.”

Lara slammed the door to her room. She was going to have to get new friends. She was never going to be able to look at Hawke again, she was never going to be able to wear these shorts again, and she was never, ever, going to forget Fenris’s legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing, part of me was thinking, Fenris wouldn’t go along with this stupid plan. And the rest of me was like, Fenris married Hawke! Half of his life is just going along with stupid plans! Anyway, Lara did Hawke a hardcore favor this day.

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this to my dear fans who were very dismayed to find QVT was actually rated T for teen. Please enjoy this offering.


End file.
